In Later Years
by BobbyD12
Summary: A story about John's adventures with the Brotherhood. Magneto sends him to France, but he might need some help to complete his mission!
1. Default Chapter

BobbyD12 is BACK! (Waits for applause) (Doesn't receive any) Heh...

Well, for all my faithful readers, (waves to Pyrotic, KernlToadSandrz and Horsiegirl) this is a sequel to _Do You Always Do What You're Told_ and you know who everyone is. For my new readers...if I have any...here's where the other one left off. John makes a friend named Kate Karina at the professor's school, and Bobby hits it off great with her friend Anna Wallace. They get captured...blah blah blah...meet a British boy named Dominic and get rescued...la dee da...time passes...blah blah...John joins the Brotherhood, Bobby and Rogue start going out...la la la....then John calls Kate up and asks her to come and help him in France with a mission for the Brotherhood. Being a good little friend, she does so, and that's where this story starts. In this one, Anna, Bobby, Rouge, John, and Kate are all 18 or 19.

Kate: A note! I have a note!

BobbyD12: Fine, go ahead.

Kate: I'm not in love with John, okay?

John: Yeah, and I don't like Kate.

Kate: That would be just creepy.

BobbyD12: Thank you...now, on with the story!

* * *

Jacque was bored. The Frenchman sat in an old abandon building in Paris, France, puffing on a cigarette and idly tapping his foot against the rickety table at which he sat. His boss had called him that morning and told him in raspy tones that another mutant prisoner would be at the drop off point at 4:00 in the afternoon, but it was already 4:15 and no one had showed up. Jacque didn't mind that much, because he was getting paid by the hour, but he wished the business was done and over with. He didn't know what his boss did with the mutants that the bounty hunters delivered to him and as long as he got paid, he didn't want to know. 

Ten minutes later he heard footsteps outside his hideout. He rose from his seat and peered through a grimy window. A young man, almost a boy, was dragging a girl through the streets. The young man's dark eyes darted to and fro as he walked, obviously watching for pursuit. His dark hair was fairly long, and kept falling into his eyes as he dragged his prisoner forward. The girl was about the same age as her captor, and like him, had dark eyes. Her hair was also dark, and it was pulled back into a curly ponytail that had obviously seen better days.

The boy reached the building in which Jacque was hiding and kicked the door in way of a knock. Jacque opened it, satisfied that these were the people he was waiting for.

"It's about time you got here," he grumbled in French. "I've been waiting for hours." An exaggeration, but a fitting one, he thought.

"Here she is. How much?" the young man asked in very bad French.

"Are you American?" Jacque asked, curious.

"How much?" the boy repeated, pushing the girl to the floor. She sat there, curled up in a ball and obviously terrified.

Jacque rubbed his chin as he sized up the girl. "She doesn't look very strong, but she's pretty. Fifty American dollars."

The boy glared at him. "One hundred fifty dollars." He had to think before he could say the words properly.

"Eighty."

"One hundred, or I leave."

Jacque shrugged. "Fine, have it your way. My boss will not be pleased...but what can I do?" He drew some money from his back pocket and counted it out slowly, the young man watching his every move. When the young man had the money in his hand, he seemed to relax.

"Thank you." He looked around the room, then at the man's cigarette. "You have more of those?"

Jacque felt curious about this young man who obviously was not French. He took a cigarette out of his shirt pocket and handed it to the lad. "These are good for you," he said with a smile.

The boy gave a short laugh and lit the cigarette with his own lighter. They stood smoking for awhile, in a silence that was broken by the girl's timid voice saying, "What are you going to do with me?" Her French was perfect, and if it had not been for a slight accent, Jacque would have thought her a native Parisian.

Jacque kicked her roughly. "That's none of your business."

The boy ignored her. "Do you have many pick ups like this?"

Jacque nodded. "At least once a day."

"What _do_ you do with them?"

Jacque gave his partner in crime a mocking grin. "I take them to my boss, that's all that's important. Now, I will take the girl and leave you, my friend." He bent down to grab the girl's hands, which were bound. But as he was about to grab them, the girl twisted away and he watched in amazement as the plastic cords that were holding her hand disintegrated into dust. She kicked up at his stomach with her feet and Jacque staggered backwards, completely winded. He gasped out to the boy, "Help me!"

"Oh, we'll help you alright," the girl snapped. "Help you straight to jail."

Jacque watched in bewilderment as the boy flicked open his lighter and the flame flew into his palm. As he watched, the fire grew and the boy shot it from his hands at him. Jacque screamed with fear, but the fire didn't touch him. Instead, it formed a solid wall around him. Through it, he heard the girl's accented French saying, "Throw your weapons towards us, and don't try anything funny."

Trying anything funny was the last thing on Jacque's mind. He saw now that he had been tricked, and that the two teenagers facing him were both mutants. He threw his small pocket pistol out of the ring of fire, followed by his knife. Outside, the girl and boy looked at each other in satisfaction.

"You'd better turn down the heat, John," the girl remarked to her companion in English. "We don't want to kill him."

The mutant called John Allerdyce shrugged and did so. The fire shrunk, and finally went out. Jacque leaned against the wall, pale and trembling. "What do you want?" he asked hoarsely.

"Information, my good man," the girl answered in French. "Who is your boss?"

"His name is Jean Bapsteist, that's all I know."

"Are you sure?" the girl asked dangerously.

Jacque nodded furiously. "He calls me when he needs my help. It's all I know, I swear!"

John glared at the Frenchman. He knew enough of the language to get the drift of what was going on. "Tell him that he'd better not be lying, or I'll come back and roast him like a Thanksgiving turkey," he growled to the girl. She obligingly translated John's remark, and Jacque again protested that he didn't know anything besides his boss's name.

"It's probably true, John," the girl remarked in English.

"Yeah, you're right," John consented grudgingly. "Let's get out of here." He drew some cords out of his pocket and proceeded to bind Jacque's hands with them while the girl gagged his mouth with an old rag. She patted the prisoner's cheek tenderly and spoke to him in French. "There there, you'll be able to free yourself in a few hours. We just need time to get away." A siren wailed in the distance, drawing steadily closer. John started walking towards the door, and motioned her to follow. She did so, calling back over her shoulder, "If you want some free advice, don't be selling mutants anymore. It isn't worth the risk."

* * *

Didja like it? Huh? Huh? Didja? 


	2. Enter the Players

Yay for all my reviewers! I think I have six or something...I'm impressed!!

Bobby: Disclaimer. BobbyD12 owns nothing and I own quite a bit of the author's affection. (Cheeky smile)

BobbyD12: (Knows better than to try and deny it) I do own Anna though!

Bobby: And I own a bit of her affection as well. (Another cheeky smile)

BobbD12: And I own Kate. Kind of. I own her in partnership with Pyrotic, I suppose.

Bobby: And I own...um, virtually none of Kate or Pyrotic's affections. (Cries)

Kate: PLEASE, Bobby, you're such a whimp! Maybe I'd like you better if you weren't so perfect.

Bobby: Oo?

Kate: Never mind .

* * *

* * *

John and his companion walked side by side down the alley, knowing that the French police would pick up the Frenchman and fine him for being in a condemned building. The pair would have liked nothing better to see the man go to jail, but such a thing was impossible...it would compromise the plan if either of them had to testify openly in court. The friends walked until the alley opened up into a bigger, nicer street. The girl rubbed her side as they walked along, she having to hurry to keep up the John's long strides.

"You alright, Kate?" John asked carelessly. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

The girl, Kate Karina, flashed her friend a grin. "Oh, I've had worse."

John nodded, but slowed down his pace, a fact that Kate noticed, but didn't comment on. They walked for another twenty minutes through Paris's crowded streets, the air was filled with the jabber of French voices and the honking of car horns. Finally, the pair turned into a small, pleasant looking hotel in which they were staying. Kate said something polite to the receptionist, John grunted, and they both walked upstairs to their rooms. It was a small hotel, but it was quiet, which was what Kate and John needed for the kind of business they were engaging in.

"I guess we'd better contact King Buckethead," John said lazily as he unlocked his room.

Kate giggled. "It's a good thing Magneto isn't telepathic or you'd have been fired ages ago."

John smirked at her and went into his room, saying, "Do you want to come in while I make the call?"

Kate peered in through the open door. The room was messy, but not as messy as her own, so she agreed. She cleared off the laundry on a chair and sat there while John dialed a number on his cell phone. There was a pause, and then John said, "Hello? This is me."

Kate rolled her eyes. John wasn't necessarily noted for his communication skills.

"We went to the place," John continued. "Yeah, the guy was there. Uh huh, he talked. He didn't know much, just the name of his boss. Jean Bapsteist...that's right. Can you track him down?"

Kate idly twirled a strand of curly hair between her fingers as she listened to the conversation.

"I _know_ that's what I'm here for, but Paris is a big city! Yeah, yeah, I know..." Kate expected John was getting another lecture from Magneto, a frequent occurrence. John rolled his eyes at her and spoke again. "All right, I'm sorry. No really, I am." His voice bellied his humble words. "Yes, yes, Kate's fine. She says hi. Okay, goodbye."

John ended the call and groaned. "That guy really annoys me."

"Everyone annoys you, John," Kate reminded.

"This is true," John acknowledged, making Kate laugh. He often made her laugh, though he seldom knew why.

"What are our marching orders?" Kate questioned.

"Find this Jean Bapsteist guy," John said, draping himself across another chair and not bothering to move the stack of newspapers that was already there. "Hopefully he's the leader of this mutant kidnapping mess."

"Sounds so easy when you say it, doesn't it?" Kate said wryly.

"It's going to take forever."

"I'll say."

There was silence for a minute, and the sounds of the streets drifted up into the room. Kate broke the stillness by asking, "John, why on earth am I here?"

John looked at her a bit strangely. "Because I invited you in so that you could hear what I said to Mr. Buckethead."

Kate shook her head. "No, I mean, why am I here in Paris with you instead of back at the professor's school with all my other friends?"

John smirked at her. "Because I called you up and bribed you with promises of adventure, getting to speak French, and being with me."

"Oh, I definitely came for the last reason," Kate teased.

"You'd better believe you did," John replied calm irony. "You heard that you got to be alone in France with me and that settled the question."

Kate's only reply was a pillow flung in his direction. John flung it back at her and demanded, "Now get out of my room."

Kate shook her head. "Your room's comfortable."

"So is yours, now get out!" John walked over and pushed Kate off her chair onto the floor.

She sat there rubbing her side and glaring up at him. "Thanks John; that was my sore side."

"Put ice on it," John said unsympathetically.

Grumbling, Kate got up and walked out, closing the door behind her.

* * *

Anna Wallace whipped her dark hair out of her face as she surveyed the situation before her. Three men stood facing her, evil leers on their faces. A little way to the side her friend Robert Drake was fighting with another. He delivered his opponent a blow in the face that rendered him unconscious, got up and sprang towards the other men shouting, "Don't just stand there, do something!"

As one of the men approached her, Anna did do something. She backed up. "Uh, Bobby! What do I do?" she yelled.

"Darn it, Anna! Don't you remember anything Scott taught you?" he shouted at her, his breath coming in gasps.

Anna gulped, and clumsily blocked a punch aimed at her nose. Her attacker tripped her, and stood over her, smiling at her helplessness. He drew a gun from his pocket, aimed—and the lights in the danger room snapped on, dispelling the imaginary men.

Bobby reached out a hand to help his friend off the floor, shaking his head. "There goes your grade," he muttered.

Anna looked dismally at him. "I should just face it, I'm hopeless at self defense!"

"I should say so," a new voice cut in. Both young adults turned to face Scott Summers as he crossed the room rapidly, a frown on his face. "For heaven's sake, Anna. You're eighteen years old and you still can't defend yourself. That's pathetic, you should be ashamed young lady!" His visor glowed brightly with anger.

Anna scuffled her feet on the floor and examined her shoes. She hated getting reprimanded, especially from Scott, who was one of her favorite teachers. "I'm sorry," murmured.

"Being sorry won't save your life in a fight," Scott snapped.

"I really _am_ sorry," Anna said again.

Scott sighed and softened his voice. "It's all right. I know you try your best." He turned to Bobby, who had been standing awkwardly through his friend's reprimand. "You did a good job out there," the teacher congratulated. "You should be proud of yourself."

"Thank you," Bobby said with a small smile.

"Class dismissed," Scott announced. As the two friends began to walk out of the room, he called to Anna. "I want you to see the professor after class."

"Why?" she asked.

"You'll need to explain the D you're getting in my self-defense class."

Anna groaned as the door slid shut and she and Bobby were alone in the hall.

"I got a D! A D!" she wailed.

"You _were_ pretty crummy," Bobby admitted.

She pushed him playfully. "That didn't help. You're supposed to be kind and understanding."

"Mmm," Bobby grunted and they started to walk down the hall of Professor Xavier's school.

"Do you think I'm going to get punished?" Anna asked, nervously twirling a strand of dark hair between her fingers.

"Probably not," Bobby said. His confidence didn't seem to reassure his friend however, so he flung an arm around her shoulders while steering her through the mansion. "Come on," he said, "I'll go with you."

As the pair walked towards the professor's office, Bobby's girlfriend Rogue fell in step beside them. "You two look as if Mr. Summers offered to tutor you in history. What happened?" she asked in her soft southern voice.

"Anna got a D in self-defense," Bobby explained, "so we're going to see the professor."

"Aww, you poor thing," Rogue said sympathetically. "I hate that class myself."

"At least you can use your power to help you," Anna said glumly. "What good is being able to sense people's emotions in a fight?"

"No good at all," Rogue stated with a smile. "I'll join you, I have some papers to drop off to the professor."

When the threesome reached the door to the professor's office, his warm "Come in" sounded before they could even knock. The entered accordingly, and the professor welcomed them with a kind smile.

"I see you have the grade reports from Ororo, thank you Rogue. Anna, we can talk about _your_ grade right now, if that's fine with you."

The three young adults exchanged amused glances. When your teacher can read minds, it saves a lot of time in explanations.

Rogue handed the papers to Professor Xavier and she and Bobby sat down on a sofa, leaving Anna to stand in front of her teacher's desk. She felt as if she would rather face an Orc battalion.

Xavier seemed to know this and his smile grew even kinder, if that was possible. "Every person is different, Anna," he said gently. "That is the beauty of humanity. Some mutant's abilities lend themselves more easily towards combat, like your friend Kate or Robert, or Rogue. Others, like yours, are more conducive to other things."

Anna felt all her anxiety slip away as the professor continued. "What you need is a way to use your power creatively. It is not a crime to break the mold." He tapped his fingers together in thought. "Tell me what you can do."

Anna knew that he already knew, but she told him anyway. "I can feel people's emotions. I can tell that...Rogue is fluttered, for instance."

One glance at Bobby and Rouge sitting next to each other, Rogue's gloved hand firmly clasped in Bobby's, told her the reason for her excitement.

"Is that all?" the professor questioned.

"I...I think so," Anna faltered.

"You think so?"

"I don't know...lately, something weird has been going on. It's like...I don't know."

The professor looked interested. "Do you think your power is changing?"

"I think growing." Anna's voice begged him to understand.

"What do you think it's growing to be?"

Anna started getting nervous again. "I think I might be able to make people feel whatever I want them to feel as well."

"Try," the professor urged her. "Try projecting nervousness into Bobby."

Anna looked at her friend who was completely oblivious to everything in the room except the girl sitting on the couch next to him. She closed her eyes and entered into his consciousness. That was the easy part; she had been able to do that since she was thirteen. For a moment she lost herself in the pleasure of being inside her friend's mind. Bobby's feelings were as familiar to her as her own room and she felt at home in them, safe and comfortable. Then she remembered what the professor had asked her to do. She took a deep breath and thought of being nervous. She remembered the way her breathing grew quick, her hands grew sweaty, her stomach knotted up. She gathered up all those feelings, rolled them into one package, and threw them into Bobby's mind.

She swiftly drew out of Bobby's consciousness and back into the real world. She looked at Bobby. He was twisting his hands in his lap, his cheeks were bright red and he was stuttering. Anna turned towards the professor. He smiled at her. "I think you're right about your power, my dear," he told her. "Now, take the nervousness away."

"Take it away?" Anna echoed blankly.

"You were able to project it into him, you should be able to take it out."

Anna obediently entered Bobby's mind again. _This is impossible_, she thought.

_Try rounding up the feelings_, Xavier voice said in her head.

Anna tried. She pretended that she was a sheepdog and the nervous thoughts were the sheep. She urged them all to one corner of Bobby's mind, then, with a massive heave, flung them out.

She looked towards Bobby and smiled with pleasure to see him conversing normally with Rogue again. She looked towards the professor. "I did it!" she said happily.

"Now all you need to do is practice with it," the professor told her. "Whenever possible. Of course," he added, "Respect the mind of the person you're in."

"Of course," Anna said. One of the first thing she had been taught at Xavier's school had been respect.

"And now," the professor said, pitching his voice so that Bobby and Rouge could hear him as well, "I'm afraid you all must get back to class. You have a Spanish lesson soon, I think?"

"Yes sir," Bobby said respectfully.

He and Rogue exited, and Anna followed close behind, mouthing the words "thank you" to Xavier.

* * *

That evening, something of a different nature was happening in an abandoned office building located in the gloomy center of Paris. In a dark room barely lit by the naked light bulb that hung from the ceiling, two men sat, wreathed in cigarette smoke. One sat behind a rickety desk and leaned back in his chair while talking into the phone receiver he held to his ear. The other sat still and silent.

"What do you mean?" the man holding the phone grated out harshly. He held his cigar in a pair of pudgy fingers and frowned. "I don't accept this kind of work," he spat.

The person on the other end of the line tried to say something, but the fat man cut him off. "No, no. I will not get Jacques out of jail. He was an idiot to let himself get caught in the first place." He brought his cigar up to his mouth as he listened to the phone. His fat lips turned up in a sneer as he said sarcastically, "Oh, that makes all the difference. You're wasting my time, call back when you have a success to report." With that, he slammed the phone down. For a while he puffed on his cigar in silence, then he burst out, "It has happened again!"

The slim man sitting opposite him pursed his lips. "Another man lost?"

The other man nodded fiercely. "It is the fifth man this month."

"The excuse?" the thin man murmured.

"The same as always," the fat man said despairingly. "Two mutants masquerading as bounty hunter and prisoner. I tell you, I grow weary of it!"

"Do you think they are the same people?" the thin man asked.

"Of course," the other snapped. "It is always the same: a girl who speaks French like a Parisian and an American boy. Sometimes they have blonde hair, sometimes they have red hair, sometimes they pose as adults, sometimes they look like teenagers...but every time they manage to take out one of my agents!" He wiped the sweat from his forehead. "It's beginning to be a threat to my business."

The thin man stared at his hands languidly. "It seems the only thing to do is to remove the threat."

The fat man smacked his lips with satisfaction. "Exactly."

"I can take care of that," the other man said confidently. "The only problem will be catching them."

"You'll think of something," the other said.

The thin man smiled, but there was no pleasure in it. "I always do." He rose from his chair in a swift motion and exited the smoke filled room. He brushed his sweaty dark hair back from his thin face; summers in Paris were not always comfortable.

He exited the old office building and dug a cell phone out of his black pants. He swiftly dialed a number and waited for the other person to pick up.

"Hello?" came a voice in breathy tones.

"I need you," the thin man said quietly.

"Why?" asked the wheezy voice.

The thin man tapped his foot impatiently. "Two mutants are fouling up the business. The boss is getting impatient."

"Do you require containment or elimination?"

The thin man smiled in spite of himself. "Elimination, naturally. Mutants are too dangerous to be left at large."

* * *

Professor Xavier was in his room, relaxing after the cares of the day. Closing his eyes, he let his mind probe around the school, monitoring the status of his students.

Young voices swirled around him in snatches of conversation.

_Kurt, stop messing up the bed!_

_Who are you, Jamie or a multiple?_

_I, like, miss Lance so bad! Do you think he's okay?_

The Professor smiled at that last thought and decided to broaden his range of telepathy. He let his consciousness roam in whatever direction it wanted, lazily. Then, he heard a voice his mind.

_Two mutants are fouling up the business. The boss is getting impatient_.

The professor immediately honed in on the speaker. He couldn't get in touch with the other speaker, so he assumed the person was on the phone. He heard the words, e_limination, naturally,_ and concern welled up inside him. He wheeled over to the computer that sat in his room and made ready to type down any information.

* * *

The thin man detailed where he wanted his associate to meet him along with the rest of the plan and ended the call. His partner had been surprised to learn he was in Paris with the boss, but the plan was getting too big for him to be elsewhere.

He put his hands into his black pants, and stole quietly down the street, making plans on how to get in touch with two certain mutants.

* * *

The professor looked at his computer in amazement. He couldn't believe what he had stumbled into.

_Scott,_ he called to friend. _Come into my room immediately._

_I'll be right there, professor,_ came Scott's sharp answer.

Moments later, Scott Summers strode into the room, his hand on his visor, ready for trouble.

"Sit down, Scott," the professor said, motioning to a chair. "I have just intercepted a communication that is quite startling."

Scott sat obediently. "What is it?"

Xavier wasn't quite sure how to begin. "The person I was listening in on gave every appearance of being involved in some anti-mutant network."

Scott wasn't impressed. "And..."

"He was giving orders for the tracking down and "elimination" of two mutants who were fouling up his plans."

"And..."

Xavier smiled wanly. "We should do something about it, don't you think?"

"Of course," Scott said immediately. "I'll get Storm and Logan ready. We can leave tonight."

The professor shook his head. "I'm afraid that's not going to be quite that simple."

"Why not?"

"They are located in Paris, France."

Scott wasn't impressed by that either. "So what?"

"Think of who else is working in France." Xavier's voice was patient. When Scott didn't reply, he gave the answer. "Magneto has had agents working there for some time."

Scott still wasn't impressed. "Then let him handle it."

"The two agents happen to be John Allerdyce and Kate Karina."

Scott was impressed. "We've got to help them! Officially, Kate is still a student here."

Xavier nodded. "I wonder if I can contact Eric?" he mused. "As long as he has his helmet off..." He closed his eyes and reached out to his old friend with his mind.

_What do you want, Charles?_ came Magneto's voice, as clearly as if he was in the room. _I take off my helmet for one moment, and you're waiting to talk to me. I suppose that could be a compliment._

Xavier smiled. _As you will. I have important information for you, my friend. An anti-mutant group has had enough of your agents in Paris. They are planning to seek them out of destroy them._

_This is a blow, certainly. John has been in France for months working on this problem. The group is a mutant kidnapping organization that has its headquarters in Paris. John's mission was to find it...but so far he has failed._

_I believe I have some information that might help him find it._

_Then deliver it to _him_, not to me, Charles!_

Xavier sensed his friend's frustration and was loath to tell him that, _I can't do that, Eric. I can't find John's mind in such a crowded city._

Magneto was silent for a while. _I would offer to have someone come to your school and take the information to France, but I'm afraid we are being watched. Until I'm certain of that, I cannot make a move._

_Let my team take it,_ Xavier urged.

_No!_ Magneto thought forcefully. _It is too noticeable as well. I am sorry, Charles. I cannot allow you to endanger my mission. If you or the X-men make an attempt to fly to Paris in that jet of yours, I will do everything in my power to stop you._

Xavier was shocked. _But Eric, two young lives might be at stake!_

Magneto's thoughts were cool. _John knew the risks. Thank you for your help, Charles, but we must continue to do as we are doing._ And then the mental link was abruptly severed.

"Well?" Scott asked.

Xavier sighed. "He refuses to let us take the information to John and Kate."

"What?" Scott exploded.

"I cannot let Kate or John be put into such a dangerous position because of Eric's stubbornness," Xavier said slowly. "But I'm afraid to send it any way that we normally would for fear of it being intercepted."

"Send someone anyway, no matter what Magneto says," Scott urged. "Or better, send some he won't expect.

"Yes, but who?" Xavier asked. "You or Logan or Storm or I leaving the mansion would be too noticeable."

"Send some of the students," Scott suggested. "A few kids going on a vacation wouldn't be anything unusual in the summer."

"It _is_ a good idea," Xavier admitted. "However, I dislike the idea of putting any one of the children in such danger."

Scott smiled. "They'd love it and you know it, sir."

Xavier smiled back. "True."

Scott leaned back in his chair. "I can't see any other option. I think we should go with it."

Xavier sighed. "I suppose you're right. Who should we send?"

Scott's answer was confident. "I know some people who'd love to go."


	3. It Happened in the Super Market

Proudcanadian--- I'm awfully glad I made you happy!

Everybody else:---Thank you for reviewing! You all get a...umm...a....

Kate: Papaya!

BobbyD12: Right! For reviewing, everyone gets a papaya. (Hands out papyas) ;)

* * *

Later that day Bobby came waltzing into the room Rogue and Anna shared together. Anna was lying on her bed reading _The Three Musketeers_ and Rogue was surfing the Internet on her laptop. Rogue looked away from the computer screen for an instant to smile at her boyfriend. Anna was too engrossed in 15th century France to pay attention to him.

"Guess what?" he asked, his blue eyes dancing.

"Go 'way. Anna grunted.

"What?" Rogue asked, gamely.

Bobby pulled an envelope out of his pocket and waved it in front of her face. "This is what, my southern belle!"

"An envelope," Rogue stated, calmly. "Whoopee."

"Could you two keep it down?" Anna asked breathlessly, looking up from her book with an excited face. "D'Artagnan is trying to get to Constance in time to stop her from drinking poison!"

"Come on, Anna. You've read that book four times already!" Bobby groaned.

An impatient "Shh" was the only reply.

"What's so exciting about an envelope?" Rogue asked, not really because she cared, but because she knew Bobby wouldn't be satisfied until he had told her.

"It's what's _in_ the envelope, my dear," Bobby said mysteriously.

"Oh my gosh!" Anna shrieked from her bed. "I can't believe they killed her!"

Bobby wisely ignored her and handed Rogue the envelope. "Look at what it is," he commanded, practically jumping out of his skin with excitement.

Rogue took the envelope and laughed at him. "Really Bobby, you're like a little kid!" She opened the envelope, saw what was inside, and Bobby had the satisfaction of seeing her eyes get big.

"Are these for us?" she whispered.

"You, me, and the nervous wreck on the bed," Bobby answered, pitching the last part towards Anna. It was a waste of effort though, because she was lying with her hands clenched around her book and unshed tears in her eyes, lost in her own imagination.

"Don't bother," Rogue advised. "Trust me, I've tried before. Nothing short of an earthquake will get her out of there."

Bobby gave her a superior look and walked over to Anna with a "watch this."

He bent down and whispered a sentence in her ear. Instantly, Anna was back in the present.

"Are you serious?" she almost shouted.

"Quite," Bobby said, being calm in his turn. He took the envelope from Rogue and handed it to Anna. "Look in there."

She grabbed the envelope, stared at the contents eagerly, and let out a happy whoop. For there, quite oblivious to the excitement they were creating, lay three plane tickets marked with the destination Paris.

Bobby grinned at his girlfriend and repeated what he had said to Anna. "Let's go visit Kate and John."

* * *

Kate was frazzled. She was in a grocery store in Paris, trying to buy food necessary for making meals for John and her. Unfortunately, she had not the slightest idea what that necessary food was.

"Dinner, dinner, what do people do for dinner?" she muttered to herself as she walked through the isles, scanning the shelves. It had been her idea to make dinner at the hotel that night. John would have been fine to eat out...again, but Kate was getting sick of living on restaurant food. The only problem was that she didn't know how to cook much. In fact, she didn't know how to cook at all.

"Maybe I should make spaghetti," she said to herself. She stood in the middle of the isle to ponder the idea, while several Frenchwomen looked strangely at her. "Yes, I think spaghetti is a good idea," she announced to the bag of flour directly in front of her. "How hard can it be?"

Accordingly, Kate piled two boxes of spaghetti, four cans of sauce, and a head of lettuce for salad into her arms. That, coupled with ice cream, potato chips, a bag of chocolate kisses, ice cream cones, and a bottle of Mountain Dew, made her wish she had brought a shopping cart with her. None the less, she wobbled away to the checkout, congratulating herself on the way.

"Good job, Kate! This is going to make a fine meal. One box of spaghetti for you and one for John. Then you can tear up the lettuce, toss it in a big bowl, and tada! A perfect dinner."

She was still chunnering to herself when she walked out of the isle towards the checkout. Perhaps that is the reason for what happened next. It could also have been due to the fact that she could hardly see past the mountain of food in her hands. Of course, the blame could lie on the opposite party as well. Anyway, whatever the cause, Kate felt something heavy and solid crash into her side, causing her to loose her balance, throw the food in her arms into the air, and fall flat on her rump.

"That wasn't my fault!" Kate shouted in French, rubbing her behind. "For once!"

"Are you alright?" A young Frenchman stood in front of her, looking so guilty that Kate decided he had something to do with her disaster.

"Did you just bump into me?" Kate asked in French.

The young man nodded sheepishly. "I'm sorry." He dropped down on his hands and knees to help pick up the scattered groceries. He and Kate both leaned forward to pick up the bag of potato chips at the same moment and their head collided with a painful _thump_.

Kate clasped her head with both hands and glared at her attacker. "Stay there. Just stay there. Don't move, please. Every time you move you end up hurting me."

"I'm sorry!" the young man groaned. "I'm such a klutz!"

"Yes, you are," Kate agreed.

The young man rubbed his own head and started to gather the food again. "You stay where you are. I'll clean this up for you."

Kate did as she was told and sat rubbing her head while observing the young man. He was tall, probably taller than John, with the same dark hair and eyes, and the same age. But unlike John he seemed friendly, good natured, and eager to help her. He stubbed one of his toes on a candy display nearby and uttered a very American...expression.

"Do you speak English?" Kate asked, curiously.

"Do _you_?" the young man asked, turning to look at her with a smile.

"I asked you first," Kate reminded.

"I asked you second."

"But I'm a lady."

"I'm a gentleman."

"I was the one who got attacked by you!"

"You knocked me down as well," he pointed out.

"Fine, do whatever you want," Kate muttered, standing up slowly.

"Thank you," he said, still on the floor gathering food. "And I _want_ to answer your question. Yes, I do speak English."

Kate's lips curved up in a smile at the young man's cheekiness. "And I do as well."

"Well, now that we have that out of the way, let's introduce ourselves. I'm Marc."

"I'm Kate." Marc held out a hand and Kate shook it warmly. Between them they carried Kate's groceries to the checkout. While they were waiting in line Marc commented, "It looks like you're planning quite a get-together."

"Oh no," Kate explained, "It's just me and a friend who was too lazy to come with me to the store. He's going to be in big trouble when I get back."

Marc looked at her keenly. "The young lady's boyfriend is not very attentive."

Kate laughed. "He's not a boyfriend," she paused. "Well, he's a boy and he's a friend...but he's not a _boyfriend_. If you know what I mean."

"I know what you mean," Marc said. He glanced at the two boxes of spaghetti. "You must not like to shop often."

Kate shrugged. "We're going to use the spaghetti up tonight, so I'll probably be back here by the end of the week."

"In one night?" Marc's amazement was plain.

"What's wrong with that?" Kate asked, a trifle annoyed. "It's just one box each!"

Marc threw back his head and laughed. Kate liked his laugh.

"What's so funny?" she demanded. Nice or not, she didn't like people laughing at _her_.

"Nothing," Marc spluttered. "Only you're going to be awfully full at the end of the night."

"Really?" Kate asked, in honest confusion.

Marc stopped laughing and looked at her kindly. "You don't really know what you're doing, do you?" he asked.

"Is it that obvious?" Kate asked forlornly.

"Yes," Marc confirmed. "Tell you what. How about you and your friend that's a boy come to dinner with me, my treat?"

Kate looked at him skeptically, waiting for him to laugh at her again. But when he didn't she saw that he was perfectly serious.

"It will be fun," he urged. "I know this great café on Tours Street that serves the best food in Paris."

Kate hesitated. "It would be fun, I guess," she admitted. She also knew that café.

"Great." Marc beamed at her and deposited her purchases on the checkout counter. "Do you have any paper to write down the address on?" he asked, after a search of his pockets proved vain.

Wordlessly, Kate offered him her hand, palm up. He grinned and wrote down "785 Tours Street, 7:00."

"I've got to go now," he told Kate after he was finished. "I'll see you and your friend this evening."

Kate thanked him, and he walked away. Right before he went out the door, he called back, "One more thing!"

Kate waved to show that she was listening.

"Don't wash that hand!" Then he was gone.

* * *

"We're going _where_ for dinner?" John's amazement was plain.

Kate and John were in the small kitchen that their hotel offered for customer use. John was sitting on the countertop swinging his legs idly while Kate put the food she had bought in a cupboard.

"To that café on Tours Street," Kate replied, tossing her friend the bag of potato chips. "You know where it is."

"Yeah..." John said, still amazed. "But I still don't get how you can walk into a grocery store and walk out with a dinner invite!"

Kate looked up from sorting her groceries. "What's wrong with that?" she asked, her voice daring John to argue with her.

He shrugged. "Nothing, I guess. It's just funny, that's all."

"It _is_ funny." Kate agreed, putting her head inside a cupboard to see if it was empty. "We're going, right?"

"Why ask me?" John questioned. "You're the one who was invited."

Kate poked her head out of the cupboard with a shocked expression. "John Allerdyce! You didn't seriously think I'd go without you, did you?"

"One can always hope..." John drawled and ducked as Kate threw the bag a chocolate at him.

"I am _not_ meeting a strange guy for dinner, in the middle of Paris, by myself!" Kate declared.

"What about me? You eat out with _me_ every day."

"You're different," Kate sniffed.

"I am?" John asked, surprised. "Cool."

Kate rolled her eyes. "Just go and get ready to leave."

John wagged a finger in her face. "Don't tell me what to do, young lady, or you'll find yourself without an escort!" Then he jumped off the countertop and stalked out of the room, the picture of offended dignity. Kate giggled and went back to putting away food.

Kate soon finished, then she walked up to her room to read a comic book. She was engrossed in it until she looked at the clock. It read 6:45.

"Ah! I can't believe it!" she shouted and threw the comic book away with a murderous glace, as if it had caused her trouble. She threw on one of her favorite shirts. A short sleeved blue one with the words "I've lost my marbles, can you help me find them?" printed on it. She opened her door and sprang out into the hallway. "JOHN! We're late!" she shouted and winced as several heads poked out of several doorways inquiringly.

"Huh?" came anot too encouraging grunt from behind the door.

"We're late!" Kate repeated, just as loud. "Hurry up!"

"I'm coming," John grumbled.

Kate paced in front of his door impatiently, pausing every once and awhile to bang on it. Finally, after five minutes (which Kate thought an absurdly long time) John came out attired in a plain red shirt and jeans.

"Great, let's go!" Kate said and ran off down the hallway. John followed that a leisurely pace, looking as if he didn't care who he made late, which was, in fact, the truth. He caught up with Kate outside the hotel.

"What are you doing?" he asked, as she started walking rapidly down the sidewalk.

She gave him a strange look. "Walking to the café. We don't have a car, remember?"

John gave her a pitying look and started walking down the street in the opposite direction. "Come here, I want to show you something," he called.

Kate growled her frustration to the sky and followed him. She found him seated on the back of a red sports motorcycle, calmly buckling on a black helmet.

"Will you quit fooling around, John?" she snapped. "I don't want to be later then I have to be!"

"I'm not fooling around, we're going to take this bike," he answered.

"It's not yours!" Kate argued.

To her astonishment John produced a key that he put in the ignition. He sat looking expectantly up at her.

"But...you didn't have this yesterday!" Kate faltered.

"True," John agreed. "But this whole mission is funded by Magneto, including transportation." He looked at her with lips that might have been smiling, but the helmet was blocking her view of his face. He handed her a red helmet with a reflective visor. "Get it?"

Kate grinned at him, buckled on the helmet and plopped herself down behind him. "Got it."

"Good." With that, John pulled down his own visor, started the engine, and they zoomed off down the Paris street.

* * *

Marc had just placed himself at a table in the caf's outdoor patio. He leaned back, enjoying the soft summer air. He wondered if his dinner dates would show up. _"Probably not,"_ he told himself, as he had done at least twenty times that evening. But still, there as just a chance that they might come and Marc grasped that chance. He wanted to see the pretty girl American again.

Marc waited for ten minutes, and was just beginning to call himself a fool when the roar of an engine cut in on his thoughts. He looked to see a red motorcycle scream down the road and stop directly in front of the café. Two figures hopped off nimbly. One of them was laughing while trying to unbuckle the red helmet. Marc heard a girlish voice speaking English, which he could understand.

"You must have every policeman in Paris tailing after you, you speed demon!" Kate laughed, not sounded too upset.

"Hey, you said you wanted to be here on time," the boy replied.

"Uh huh," she responded vaguely, tugging at her helmet. "Uh, John, can you help me with this?"

The boy pulled off his own helmet and stood looking his friend. "Come on, surely you can get a stupid helmet off!"

Kate shook her head and the boy started walking towards the caf's entrance, calling over his shoulder, "Well, you _should_ be able to and I'm not doing it for you."

Marc stifled a laugh as the girl trailed her friend, complaining under her breath. As the pair walked into the café patio the helmeted head turned in his direction and the girl waved at him. "Hey, Marc!" she called in French. "I'm glad you're here."

"Likewise," he said as Kate and John approached the table he sat at. "Sit down," he invited, waving his hand at two lawn chairs, "these have your names on them."

Kate sat down and John followed suit. He turned to her and remarked, "Kate, could we speak English for once?"

"Sure," Marc said, easily slipping into his accented English.

John looked a little surprised, but, "Oh, ok" was his only comment.

Kate flipped up the visor on her helmet and tugged at the straps again. As she did so she made introductions. "Marc, this is John," she informed, pointing at the figure sprawled in his chair. "John, this is Marc." She turned to John with a threatening expression. "And you will like him."

Marc reached out a hand genially. "So this is the 'friend that's a boy,' eh?"

John merely raised his eyebrows.

Marc shrugged and unconcernedly picked up his menu, a fact that earned him points in Kate's reckoning. Anyone who wasn't upset by John's thorniness was on the high road to her favor. Kate also picked up her menu with one hand, pulling on the helmet strap with the other. After a minute she dropped it again, worked feverishly at the strap with both hands, then gave up, shooting John a dirty glance.

"Do you need some help over there?" Marc questioned, grinning at her futile efforts.

Kate looked at him gratefully. "Yeah. I can't get this and _someone_ refused to help me." She looked at John suggestively.

Marc nodded. "So I heard. Here, let me..."

He was interrupted by John breaking suddenly into the conversation. "Kate, do you need help with that strap?"

Kate turned towards him and said in puzzled voice. "Yes. I was just telling Marc..."

"It's easily fixed," John smoothly interrupted again. "Watch." His fingers went under her chin and undid the straps in a twinkling. He pulled the helmet off her head despite Kate's squeak of protest as it caught her ear along the way, and set it on the ground by his chair. "See?"

Kate rubbed her ear. "I see," she grumbled.

_And I'm beginning to,_ Marc thought. Aloud he sought to make polite conversation. "What brings you two to Paris, John?"

As soon as the words were out of his mouth Marc saw he had hit on an unlucky topic. John's mouth went down in a frown and his attitude grew even more hostile, if that was possible. "Sightseeing," he said, his eyes daring Marc to doubt him.

Kate jumped into the breach hurriedly. "I studied French all during grade school and high school, so John offered to bring me here as a reward." As she said this, she shot John a warning glance that was barely veiled behind a smile.

"Quite a good reward," Marc said easily. "I wish my parents would have taken me to America when I graduated."

"When did you graduate?" Kate asked to turn the conversation.

Marc saw what she was trying to do and obliged her. "Just this year. This is my last summer of freedom before collage."

From there the conversation took a safer note while Kate and Marc exchanged histories. Kate withheld the information that she was a mutant, as was her custom, but told him about her "private school" in New York, along with some stories of her amusing pranks. Marc laughed loudly as she described gluing Scott Summer's door shut and dousing people with gooey substances, all in malicious detail. In return, Marc told her that he had lived in Paris all his life, had studied English as a second language, visited some friends in America, fell in love with the country and hoped to become an interpreter there. He entertained her with tales of his boarding school days and it soon became apparent that they shared a love of practical jokes, randomly funny sayings (Marc loved Kate's slogan on her shirt), and making serious people everywhere live in terror of losing their seriousness. Throughout the dinner John's eyes flicked back and forth from Kate to Marc but lingered longest on Marc. He didn't trust the young man, his mission made it dangerous to trust anyone. Kate was allowed to like him because, technically, she wasn't working for Magneto, she was working for him. But she always came along on his various missions and was up to her ears in his plans, so John decided to watch her carefully.

The three young people finished their food quickly, but sat talking for two hours. With every passing minute Kate and Marc enjoyed each other more and more. Their similar tastes in books, movies, and practically everything were a source of amusement and food for conversation enough to last more than two hours. But at the end of that time period, John looked at his watch and said firmly, "Kate, it's time to go."

John had interrupted Marc in the middle of a story about how he had carried off his teacher's dressers on night when he was out and had hidden them in a garage, but nonetheless he stopped and smiled at him. "If you say so, John." He turned to Kate again. "I really liked talking with you."

"Me too," Kate agreed.

John stood up and the others followed. Marc looked slightly shy as he asked, "Do you think we could do this again?"

John frowned, but Kate was already nodding enthusiastically. "Definitely," she confirmed.

Marc smiled a huge smile. "Great. How would you like to meet me for a movie tomorrow?"

Kate shook her head. "That's not a good idea. They're all in French over here, and John wouldn't understand it."

Marc blinked. It was obvious to John that the other boy had not been including him in the invitation, but he made no effort to correct Kate.

Kate was thinking, pulling at a piece of curly hair that had fallen out of her ponytail. "Maybe you could come over to the hotel. The lobby is a great place to sit and talk. Plus, you could see my comic books." Earlier, Marc had expressed his liking for such things.

Eager to oblige, Marc jumped at the chance. "That sounds wonderful."

Kate let go of her hair and bounced a little with excitement. She fished in her pocket for a pen and grabbed Marc's hand. "Here's my phone number," she told him, while writing it down on his palm. "Give me a buzz when you want to get together or something." After that, she and John walked to the exit of the café patio.

Marc waved as the pair got on their motorcycle and zoomed off. He sighed a little to himself. She was so much fun. He would love to get to know her better. If only...but he stopped his thoughts there and walked homewards down the busy Paris streets.


	4. A Slight Change in Plans

Yes, contrary to common belief I _am_ still alive, and I _do not_ intend on giving up on this story! (Glares at Pyrotic, who has been spreading the nasty rumors. Okay, maybe not.) I put the blame on school. I simply don't have enough time to do everything I have to do! Oh well. Y'all didn't click on my story to hear about my business, so...on to the maaaaaain attraction!

* * *

When John and Kate reached their hotel, Kate plopped herself down on a couch in the lobby and patted the seat next to her. "Come on, Mister Grumpy Gills," she called to John as he was walking upstairs to his room. "We need to have a talk."

"Later," he said, not slowing his pace.

Kate jumped up and hurried to him before he reached the top of the stairs. "John! I really want to talk to you!" she pleaded.

John stopped walking and leaned against the stairwell wall, arms folded. "So go ahead and talk to me."

_Why does he have to be so difficult?_ Kate wondered. Aloud she said, "I just wanted to know what you thought of Marc."

"I don't trust him," John said, irritated. "I don't know why you like him so much."

"I never asked you to trust him," Kate reminded, leaning against the opposite wall. "I like him because he's friendly, funny, and likes the same stuff I do. What's wrong with that? Can't I have _any_ fun?" Kate didn't bother to keep the annoyance she felt out of her voice.

"We're not here for fun, Kate." John's voice sounded just as irritated.

"_You're_ not, **_I_** am!" Kate burst out. "I'm not working for Magneto, John Allerdyce and the sooner you remember that, the better."

"I do remember that," John said, his voice cool. "I remember that every single time I tell you the Brotherhood's plans and every time you come with me to carry them out. You're up to your ears in Magneto's plans and I've got to watch who you hang out with."

Kate looked at John wonderingly. That speech was almost eloquent. "You care about what happens to me?"

"You're too important to the plan to risk you getting captured by the enemy. Plus, who knows what you would tell them...with the proper persuasion?" John's voice was harsh. "I don't care about _you_. I care about what would happen to me in this city without someone who can speak French." John turned his back on a speechless Kate and walked up to his room without another word.

Kate waited until she heard his door close before running up her own room and slamming the door. Hot tears formed themselves in her eyes as she flung herself violently into an armchair and curled herself a tight ball. _Why are you so upset?_ She asked herself fiercely. _You know he never thinks about anyone but himself, he probably didn't even mean to hurt your feelings._ It was true, and the reasonable part of Kate knew it, but still the tears insisted on swimming in front of her eyes. _I miss Anna,_ she thought dully.

* * *

In Anna and Rogue's room, widespread havoc reigned. The two girls were seated on the floor, filling suitcases with the clothes that had been relocated to piles all around them.

"Do you think this outfit looks good?" Anna asked, critically placing a dark green shirt against a short khaki skirt.

"You'll look sweet in it," Rogue confirmed, looking up from her lap where black and blue long sleeved shirts lay in a heap. "Which one should I bring, black or blue?"

"Bobby likes you in black," Anna said, going over to her dresser and picking out some jean shorts.

"Does he really?" Rogue asked, brightening.

Anna laughed and threw the shorts into her suitcase. "Of course he also likes you in blue, red, green, yellow, or any other color known to the human race."

"He's so sweet," Rogue murmured and put both shirts into her bag.

"Isn't he?" Anna agreed.

The two girls packed in companionable silence for a while, each busy with their own happy thoughts. Rogue was contemplating how wonderful it would be to go to Europe with the boy she loved and Anna was thinking of how surprised Kate would be to see them.

"Do you think she suspects anything?" Anna asked, following her thought strand.

"Who?" Rogue asked.

"Kate," Anna explained. She had forgotten who she was talking to, and for a moment she thought she was with Kate. Her friend always seemed to know what she was thinking without her having to explain.

"No, why should she?" Rogue asked, holding up a black and white striped top for inspection.

Anna didn't have time to reply before Bobby walked into the room, his face heralding a new turn of events.

"I have some more news about our trip," Bobby announced. "The Professor is worried that if we go straight to France it will be suspicious, so we're going to England first."

Anna stopped in the act of putting a long black dress into her suitcase. "We're going to England?" she repeated, her voice quiet with suppressed excitement.

"That's what I said," Bobby confirmed, grinning. "And now you may scream and howl because your life-long dream is being fulfilled."

Anna didn't scream or howl, but she did whoop a little. Bobby was right; visiting England had been a dream of hers ever since she had been old enough to think.

"You know what I'm going to do the second we get off the plane?" Anna asked, dancing around the room with glowing eyes.

"Go to see Oxford?" Bobby guessed.

Anna shook her head. "No, but I'm going to do that too."

"Visit the places where Lewis and Tolkien wrote," Rogue offered.

"Wrong again!" Anna sang. "I'm going to seek out a bookstore."

"A bookstore?" Bobby echoed, incredulously. "That's boring."

"No it isn't!" Anna argued. "I've always wanted to shop in a British bookstore."

Rogue shrugged at her friend's bookish tastes and continued packing. "Is this trip really that dangerous?" she asked Bobby.

He looked at her seriously. "Yes, it is. These people that are working against us will stop at nothing to get want they want."

"Even hurting a bunch of nineteen year olds?" Rogue sounded a little scared.

Bobby shrugged. "The Professor thinks not. That's why we're going to England first."

"And I thought this trip was going to be fun," Rogue said with a tight smile.

"It is going to be fun," Bobby urged.

"Of course it will be," Anna cut in. "The danger will make it even more interesting."

"All the more interesting since you don't have to worry about defending anybody," Bobby teased, but Anna wasn't listening to him. Her eyes were closed and the dress she had been folding hung limp in her hands.

"What's wrong?" Rouge asked.

"She's in someone else's emotions," Bobby informed her. "You've seen her do it before."

"Yeah," Rouge agreed cautiously, "But she's never done it so sudden. It's kind of creepy."

Bobby just shrugged and watched his friend closely, ready to help her if need be.

Anna hadn't been trying to reach someone else's consciousness. It had happened without her really realizing what was going on. One minute she was folding clothes and next she was wrapped up in feelings of confusion, anger, and hurt. She didn't try to struggle out of them because she wanted to feel whom they belonged to. Carefully, so as not to hurt the person, she reached out with her mind, probing past the temporary emotions to the deep, constant ones. Her lips curved into a smile as she found them. It was Kate. Swiftly she withdrew from the deeper parts of her friend's mind and went back to the things she was feeling at the moment. Her own eyes filled with tears as Kate curled up in her chair and tried not to cry. Anna didn't know what had upset her friend, but it hurt her to feel so much sadness coming from her. Anna took a deep breath and reached out in Kate's mind again. This time she gathered some of the feelings of sadness and hurt to herself. Mentally, she formed them into one big lump and, clutching it, withdrew out of Kate's consciousness. Once she was out of her friend's mind, she released her grip and the sadness dissipated into the air like a wisp of smoke.

In Paris, Kate stopped crying.

Anna shook herself and opened her eyes. Bobby was staring at her worriedly and Rogue was packing, just as before.

"How long has it been?" Anna asked Bobby, knowing he knew what she meant.

"About ten minutes."

"Hmm," Anna mused. She started to refold the dress in her hands. "You want to know who I was feeling?"

"Who?"

"Kate."

Bobby's eyes widened in surprise. "But she's halfway across the world. I never knew your power could reach so far!"

"Neither did I," Anna admitted. "It never has, until just now. Odd, isn't it?"

"I'll say," Bobby agreed.

"And do you want to know something even odder?" Anna continued. "I took some of her emotions from her."

Bobby looked impressed. "Wow. I think your power is starting to mature a bit."

"I think so too," Anna agreed. "I'm a little worried."

"About what?"

Anna placed the dress in her suitcase and started to look through her bookshelf to decide which books she should bring. "Oh, I don't know. I suppose I'm worried that I won't be able to control it. I mean, what if I start stealing people's emotions every time I looked at them or something?"

"Wear a blindfold," Bobby joked.

But Anna wasn't in a joking mood. "No really, I'm serious. Emotions are one of the things that make us human, that and a soul. What would happen if I drained someone's emotions entirely?" Her voice faltered a little and Rogue looked up from where she was packing on the other side of the room.

Bobby went over and placed an arm around Anna's shoulders. "You're borrowing trouble," he told her. "That won't ever happen, so stop thinking about it."

"How do you know?" Anna questioned, but she seemed comforted by her friend's assurance.

"Come on," Bobby said in a light tone. "If it does, and the Professor has to shut you up in a little room by yourself, I'll come and poke books under the doorjamb for you."

That speech won the laugh he had been hoping for, and the rest of the evening was spent selecting outfits and reading material for the upcoming trip.

* * *

The next morning Anna, Bobby, and Rogue were up at five o'clock to catch their flight to the UK. The young adults had said all their good byes the night before, so they slipped through the mansion without waking a single soul. Professor Xavier was waiting for them in the meal room and as they ate breakfast he lectured them.

"I want you three to be careful. I don't know who we're up against, or how far they would go to get at this information." He tapped a CD that contained a recording of the entire phone communication Xavier had intercepted.

"Don't worry, sir," Bobby assured his teacher, "we'll be careful."

"I know you will be." The Professor smiled fondly at them. "I will keep in touch with all of you and once you are in France, tell you where to find Kate and John."

Anna looked up from her bowl of bran flakes. "Won't our phone lines be tapped, though?" she questioned.

"Probably," the Professor agreed.

Anna frowned. "Then how will you..." she broke off as she heard Xavier's voice in her mind.

"_There are other ways to keep in contact than telephones."_

Anna looked sheepish. "Oh yeah, I forgot."

Rogue stared at the envelope on the table. "What exactly are we carrying, Professor?"

Xavier shook his head. "The less you know, the better. All you need to understand is that this disk contains information that could destroy the underground mutant kidnapping in Paris if used properly."

Bobby whistled. "Gee, no wonder you didn't want to send this by mail."

The professor nodded. "Now hurry up, all of you, you're going to miss your plane."

The three gulped down the rest of their breakfast and grabbed their suitcases. The professor picked the disk up off the table. "I don't think it would be wise to put this in your luggage, one of you had better carry it."

All three friends looked at each other hesitantly, none wanting to take or refuse the responsibility.

"I'll hold it," Rogue said after a moment.

Bobby started to protest, but she held up a gloved hand for silence. "I'll fold it up and put it inside my shirt or something. That way anyone trying to grab it will get a rather painful surprise."

Bobby nodded in silent consent and the professor praised the choice. "I think it is a good idea, Rogue. Go and find a good place to put it while the others put the bags in the car."

Accordingly, Rogue vanished into the bathroom and Anna and Bobby lugged the bags to Scott's blue sports car. Scott didn't know the students had chosen to use his vehicle, but Bobby figured that by the time he found out, they would be in the air. As soon as the bags were safely tucked in the trunk, Rogue was running out the mansion door and stopped in front of her friends. She turned around slowly, holding up her arms.

"Well? Can you see it?" she asked.

"Nope," Anna confirmed. "Where'd you put it?"

"I tucked it into my pants and covered it with my shirt," Rogue replied. "It's a good thing I wore a loose one today."

The professor wheeled to the front door and raised his hand in token of farewell. In their minds Anna, Bobby, and Rogue heard his voice. _Good luck and Godspeed._

After waving back, the three friends piled into the car. The last thing Xavier heard was Anna complaining good naturedly, "Why does Bobby get to drive?" and then the motor started and the silver car zoomed down the driveway. As it disappeared down the road, Xavier felt a shiver run down his spine. _I wonder what will have happened to them when I see them next?_ he wondered. If he had known, if he could only have seen what was going to befall those three happy students of his, he wouldn't have been able to simply wave his hand one last time and turn back into the school. But, with the peace that comes only from ignorance, he did so and trusted luck and friendship to keep them safe.

A time was soon to come when both would be tested.


	5. Of Books and Conversation

Ooh! Updation! Aren't you proud of me?? Two chappies in one day. Geez, I'm gonna spoil you guys!

* * *

Anna, Bobby, and Rogue boarded their flight with no problems at all and a few hours later they arrived in London. After they got their bags from the terminal Bobby rented them a car and they drove until they spotted a hotel.

"What do you think about this place?" Bobby asked Rouge, who was sitting next to him in the front seat.

Rogue eyed up the tall, modern looking building and nodded. "It looks as good as any."

Anna made no comment, being too busy staring out of the window in a state of rapture to care what her companions were talking about.

Bobby parked the car and tugged Anna and his bags into the building. Anna seemed to think that if she let the London landscape out of her sight for one moment it would run away.

"You can visit it as soon as we're checked in," Bobby promised.

Anna grinned up at him. "I'm holding you to that."

Once they registered for three days worth of lodgings, Anna rushed upstairs, deposited her bags in the room she and Rogue were going to share and sprang out into the hall again.

"I'm going to find a bookstore," she sang to her friends, who were busy unpacking their clothes like sensible travelers.

"Are you going to take the car?" Bobby asked.

Anna shook her head. "I don't think so. They drive on the wrong side of the road in this country and I'd probably run over someone. I'll walk."

"Good plan," Bobby agreed. "Have fun and take this." He tossed her his cell phone. "Call Rogue's phone if you need us, I'll tell her to keep it on."

"Gottcha," Anna said and saluted playfully. "You two behave while your chaperone is gone." With that admonition she skipped off down to the lobby.

Once she was there she stopped by the desk to question an older man about direction. "Excuse me," she began politely.

"Yes miss?" the man asked.

"I was wondering where I could find a good bookshop."

The man's lips curved up ever so slightly. "There is a store right across the street."

Anna waved her hand impatiently. "No, I saw that when we came in. All it has are comic books. I mean a _good_ bookstore!"

"What type of books are you looking for? Perhaps I can help you, I'm an avid read myself." The man looked slightly interested now.

"I want a store that sells classics," Anna said without hesitation.

The man's sliver moustache quivered a bit. "Classics? You mean something like _The Count of Monte Cristo_ by Mark Twain or _A Tale of Two Cities_ by Edgar Allen Poe?"

Anna giggled a bit. "Really, sir, I'm not that illiterate. I've read both Twain and Poe and they never wrote anything like that."

The older man broke into a hearty chuckle and scribbled an address on a piece of paper that she handed to Anna. "I think you'd enjoy this place, miss." His eyes twinkled at her. "I have to be careful who I send there, the owner is a friend of mine."

Anna thanked him and looked at the paper. It said _796 Peters Street. _After getting directions to Peters Street, she left, excited over the fact that she had talked to a real Englishman.

The store the man had directed her to was a cozy little shop, softly lit and smelling of old dust and fresh coffee. As Anna walked in, the sound the street noises she let in with her blared into the quiet atmosphere which had only been broken by the sound of pages turning and hushed conversation. In the front of the shop, where big glass windows were, a sofa and two armchairs made out of dark green leather sat. In the back of the shop there were the books. Shelves upon shelves of books. Anna wandered through them, running her fingers along their spines and smiling every time her eye caught a familiar title.

"What should I pick?" she mused under her breath. "Something old or something new?" She had just decided on something new when her eye was caught by the words _Peter Pan_. Quick as thought she grabbed the book off the shelf and devoured it with her eyes. She had already read the book, but had never bought a copy of it for herself. This edition was illustrated with beautiful water color paintings so real they seemed to jump out of the page. "You're coming home with me," Anna informed the book and headed to the counter to pay for it. Once that duty was done, she sat down on the sofa and began to read. It was like meeting an old friend again as she read the first sentence. _"All children, except one, grow up."_ And with that she was whisked away to a world full of pirates, mermaids, and a boy who didn't grow up.

Her excursion in Neverland continued unbroken until she felt a tap on her shoulder and heard a pleasantly British voice ask, "Would you mind if I sat here?"

"No," Anna said absently, without looking up.

"Thank you," the voice said and Anna felt the sofa sink a little as the speaker sat down.

Still staring at the page, Anna considered ignoring this stranger completely; but then decided it wouldn't be polite. A bit grudgingly, she put her book in her lap and turned to face the newcomer.

He was a handsome young man with short dark hair and dark eyes. His face was friendly and looked slightly dreamy, but Anna decided she could be imagining it; _Peter Pan_ always made her sentimental. He sat with his legs tucked under him, but Anna could tell he was taller then herself by a good many inches.

"Do you have enough room?" she asked, to show that she was paying attention to him now. "I'm kind of sprawled all over the place." It was true; she had her back on the armrest and her legs swung over the back of the sofa.

"I'm fine," he assured her, but Anna thought he was looking at her funny, so she moved positions anyway and sat up like a normal human being. She went back to her book, but she still felt the stranger's eyes on her as she read. She glanced up and saw that he was staring at her the way you'd stare at great aunt who you're supposed to know, but don't. Anna shifted positions once again and tried to ignore him, but couldn't. Professor Xavier's warning about enemies popped into her mind and she edged further away from the young man.

"What are you reading?" he asked, with an accent so pure that Anna would have loved him on the spot if she wasn't a bit afraid of him.

"_Peter Pan_," she said hastily.

"I like that book," he said, still staring at her.

"Me too," Anna agreed lamely, for lack of something else to say.

The boy shifted positions on the couch and cleared his throat. "This is going to sound weird, and I feel stupid asking you...but is your name Anna Wallace?"

Anna's eyes opened wide. She was seriously alarmed now. "No, I'm sorry," she lied.

"Oh," the boy said, looking disappointed.

Anna was curious to know why this person she had never seen knew her name. "I've been told I look a lot like her," she said, surprised at her own daring. "She lives in my hometown."

"Really?" The young man's eyes lit up. "That's wonderful! I knew her once, a long time ago, and then I came back to England and we lost track of each other. How is she doing?"

"She's doing fine," Anna said guardedly.

"Is she dating a boy named Robert Drake?" the youth asked eagerly.

Anna's mouth opened, she couldn't help it. "Bobby?" she repeated in amazement.

"Yes, I remember those two were always close. I had them picked out for each other." The young man's eyes were twinkling with mischief.

Anna's mind was racing to think of British boys she had known before Bobby started dating Rogue, so she could only stammer out, "No—no they're just good friends."

"Pity," the boy remarked. "They were cute together." He looked at Anna searchingly again. "You really _do_ look a lot like her. But like I said, that was a long time ago."

"How long?" Anna asked, her voice surprisingly steady.

The young man shrugged. "We were both about fourteen."

_Fourteen!_ Anna didn't need to think hard to remember what had happened to her at that age. A money hungry man who had made mutant children work for him had kidnapped her, Kate, John, and Bobby. She had met many kids during the time she was there, but the only one who had been British had been...

"Dominic?" she asked in disbelief.

The boy looked at her, puzzled. "Yes, that's me."

In her excitement at finding her old friend she forgot that she had told him she wasn't Anna Wallace. "I can't believe it's you! I haven't heard from you in years!"

Now it was Dominic's turn to be uneasy. "Did—did Anna tell you about me?"

Anna laughed quietly. "I _am_ Anna."

Dominic frowned. "But you just said..."

"Forget what I said," Anna interrupted. "I didn't feel like giving my name out to a stranger, that's all."

A large smile broke out on Dominic's face. "In that case, I'm more than overjoyed to see you!" He reached over and wrapped her in a friendly hug, to the surprise of the elderly lady standing behind the counter of her shop.

Anna hugged him back gladly, but it took less than a second for her to realize that this wasn't the boy she had known five years ago. Maybe her memory was going bad, but she didn't recall that her whole body had tingled when he touched her, as it did now.

Maybe he realized she was uncomfortable or maybe he felt the change too, because Dominic released her almost immediately. When they had each retired to their own corners, they asked each other the usual polite questions about jobs, schooling, and family, and then came the awkward pause that inevitably accompanies the meeting of old friends.

"So," Dominic said after a while. "Are you here for sightseeing?"

Something in Anna tugged at her to tell him everything about her plans, but reason won the day. "Yes," she told him. "Bobby's with me."

"Ah," Dominic said, looking wise and teasing at the same time.

"His girlfriend is with us," Anna added, reading his thoughts.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"I see." Dominic looked at her with his old way of mingled flirtyness and genuine affection. "Do you still love him?"

Anna shot up, indigent. "I never did love him, Dominic, and don't you forget it!"

Dominic's eyes laughed at her as he said gravely, "Forgive me, Milady. I shall try to remember in the future."

Anna shook her head with a smile. "You haven't changed much, Dom."

"You have," he said readily. "You don't look like the frightened little bird that you used to. You've grown more confident, I think. And more beautiful."

Anna blushed, she tried not to, but she couldn't stop it. She knew that Dominic was a flirt and that he probably said things like that to every girl he met, but that knowledge didn't cool her face.

Dominic settled back into the couch in a satisfied way. "Since we're on the subject, let's talk about each other."

"We were on that subject?" Anna asked, but Dominic took no notice of her.

"I'll talk about you first," he said wickedly. "I've already pointed out you're more beautiful than you used to be, let that be noted and duly appreciated." He paused and Anna assumed it was so that she could "duly appreciate" his comment. "Let me now add to that and say that you look stronger and more able to take care of yourself than you used to."

"I've been taking self defense at school," Anna offered.

Dominic's eyebrows rose. "What kind of a school do you go to?"

Anna's voice lowered as she said, "One for people like us."

Dominic nodded his understanding and continued. "While I have a great many good things to notice about my long lost friend, I also have some things to worry about." He gazed at her appraisingly for a moment and then shook his head. "Actually, on further consideration I just have one thing that bothers me. My friend looks preoccupied and nervous. When I began to talk to her she looked like she was ready to bolt for the door." His eyes locked with hers. "Is she in any trouble?"

Anna managed a smile. "Nothing that you could help me with."

"Try me," the British youth demanded.

She shook her head. "I don't need it, thanks."

"Does the source of your trouble have anything to do with why you're visiting London?"

"Do you think that?" Anna asked evasively.

"I certainly do," Dominic replied confidently.

"You've talked about me long enough, let me talk about you," Anna said, deciding that she had had enough of the present topic.

"Yes. Do, please," Dominic said amiably. "Do you want my side profile or can I stay as I am?"

"Stay as you are, you flirt," Anna commanded.

"I'm not a flirt, I just enjoy myself," Dominic argued. He put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. "You may begin, Milady."

Anna laughed softly. "Obviously you're still a...forgive me, you still "enjoy yourself" as much as you used to. It looks like you've become a bit of a romantic, judging by the book of Tennyson you brought with you."

"The girl's a regular Sherlock Holmes," Dominic murmured and lazily opened one eye. "Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt."

"Have you read "The Lady of Shallot" yet?" Anna questioned, for a minute forgetting her appraisal.

"_She has heard a whisper say,_

_A curse upon her if she stay_

_To look down to Camelot_," Dominic recited, both eyes closed again.

"I can see you're still charismatic, too," Anna remarked, after the tingle of words left her.

"It's because I'm so handsome," Dominic said. He opened his eyes and looked at her. "Aren't you going to say anything about that?"

"I was getting there," Anna reprimanded. "You just want to hear yourself praised."

"The lady speaks truth," Dominic admitted cheerfully and closed his eyes again.

"I'll give you want you want and tell you that you are handsome indeed," Anna said, a trifle embarrassed. She only talked to Bobby like this.

"Much obliged."

After Anna was quiet for a while, he opened his eyes again. "Are you done, Milady?"

She nodded.

"That's hardly fair, I gave you a much longer turn then you gave me," Dominic protested.

"I'm sorry, maybe I'll finish some other time, but right now I—I have to go," Anna said, getting up off the couch. She had planned to spend the whole day at this bookstore, but the presence of the boy next to her had made her so fluttered that she didn't feel like reading now.

"Wait a minute!" Dominic said, jumping up and grabbing her hand. "You can't just leave and not tell me where you're staying! You can't play Cinderella this time."

"I'm only going to be here three days," Anna said, withdrawing her hand before she started to tingle again.

"All the more reason for us to get together now," Dominic argued.

"I guess so," Anna said feebly.

Dominic frowned and looked at her closely. "Heavens, I've made the lady angry with me!" he ejaculated. Before Anna could open her mouth to deny it, he dropped on one knee and looked pleadingly up at her. "Hide not your face from me," he begged, causing the few people in the shop to look at the pair with undisguised wonder.

"Get up, Dom," Anna said, feeling embarrassed for the second time in thirty minutes.

"Not until you promise to let me walk you home, Milady," the young man insisted.

Anna looked at the people staring at them and agreed wildly. "Yes, yes, just get up!"

Dominic got up with all the glory of a victorious knight and offered her his arm. "Shall we?" he asked pleasantly, as if he had done nothing out of the ordinary.

Anna nodded and tentatively put her hand on the proffered arm. Dominic picked up her book and his with the other hand and with a "Good afternoon, Mary," to the old woman behind the counter, escorted his prize out onto the sidewalk.

The pair walked in silence down the sunny streets, and even if Anna was a bit grumpy and Dominic a trifle conceited, they still looked like a well matched couple.

"Where are you staying?" Dominic asked, putting aside the dramatics as he saw Anna's tight lips.

"In the Jenson hotel," she replied, a bit stiffly.

"Spiffin'," Dominic said happily. "I know that place."

They walked on in silence until Dominic shook her arm gently. "Are you all right?"

"I'm a little irritated with you," Anna admitted.

"Why?" Dominic looked honestly puzzled.

"Because you spoiled my book reading day and embarrassed me by your theatrics."

Her escort looked troubled. "I'm sorry, Milady, I didn't know. I'm afraid I don't have your gift of sensing people's feelings. I humbly apologize. I would abase myself, but I think that would make it worse, wouldn't it?"

Anna felt remorse radiating off him like a steam cloud, so she forgave him. "It's okay. I didn't really mind that much, it's just..."

"What?" Dominic pressed as she stopped speaking.

"You interrupted me during a really interesting part in _Peter Pan_."

Dominic laughed. "I'm sorry. Again."

"And you're forgiven. Again."

"What part were you at?" Dominic asked curiously.

"Just when Peter says my favorite line," Anna said.

Dominic groaned. "I can't do anything right today." He stopped looking tragic long enough to ask, "What was the line?"

Anna had been hoping he would ask her. Anytime she got to talk to someone about her books she took the opportunity. "_To die would be an awfully big adventure._"

Dominic thought about it for a second and said slowly, "I think it would depend what you were dying for." He glanced at Anna. "And who you were dying with."

Anna glanced back. "Are you flirting with me?" she asked.

Dominic gave her an innocent smile. "Why would you get that impression?"

Anna just shook her head and they continued their walk in silence. At the door of the Jenson Hotel, Dominic relinquished Anna's arm and gave her back her book. As Anna said goodbye and was preparing to walk in, Dominic called her back.

"Wait! I have to give you something," he said. He was fishing around in his pockets furiously, so Anna waited. At last he produced a pen and a gum wrapper and scribbled an address on it.

"I know you said you don't need any help," Dominic said quietly. "But just in case, come to this address. I'm there every evening."

"Is this where you live?" Anna asked, curious.

"No. It's where I and a couple...friends get together, people like us." He grinned at her. "You don't think I've been idle all these years, do you?"

"Thanks," she said, pocketing the slip of paper.

"Perhaps I'll see you again, then," Dominic said. "But we warned, if you don't contact me before you leave, I'll die of heartbreak and come back to haunt you."

Anna smiled at him. "I wouldn't want that."

"Neither would I, actually," Dominic admitted. He bowed slightly to her and, with a wave, walked back down the street.

* * *

The same morning Anna, Rouge, and Bobby had landed in England, Kate jolted awake as her alarm clock sounded. Groaning, she stuffed her head under a pillow, but when she found her alarm couldn't be ignored, she drowsily turned it off. The display said 7:00 and Kate groaned again. Why on earth was she up so early? She sat up and dangled her feet off the edge of her bed, blinking stupidly at the wall. Slowly her brain started working again and she remembered. Today she and John were supposed to track down that man named Jean Baptiest. Then, Kate frowned as the events of last night flooded back to her.

"I don't want to talk to him," she muttered rebelliously as she pulled off her pajamas and shrugged into a blue tee shirt and jean shorts. "I guess I forgive him, but I don't want to talk to him."

She swept her hair back in a ponytail, shook herself to be sure she was really awake, then walked down to the lobby for their complimentary continental breakfast. After getting herself a bowl of Coco Puffs and a cup of steaming hot chocolate, she scanned the area to see if John was there. She spotted him seated at a small table tucked away in the corner of the lobby, slowly munching on a bagel. Kate headed over to him and sat down, feeling a little awkward. John looked up from his bagel as she sat down and grunted at her. Kate nodded in reply and set about making her Coco Puffs disappear, as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

The silence between them was deafening. Normally Kate would have been talking about something random or John busy describing their agenda for that day, but this morning the table was quiet. Kate wondered if John felt badly about what he had said the night before. He looked uncomfortable enough.

John dunked his bagel into his cup of coffee and chewed it quickly, much quicker then was his normal wont. Once or twice Kate caught him opening his mouth to say something, but then closing it again without a sound. Kate knew her friend well enough to read the signs. John was sorry.

Then and there Kate decided to forgive him. _He's only a boy, anyway. You can't expect too much from him,_ she told herself. Looking up from the bowl of Coco Puffs, Kate cleared her throat.

"So, John," she began casually. "What's on the agenda for today?"

John stopped being absorbed in his coffee soaked bagel and answered, just as casually, "I think we'll head deeper into the city and make inquiries about Monsieur Bapteist."

Kate nodded and sipped her hot chocolate, knowing her attempt at peace had been understood and accepted. "Are we getting disguised this time?" she asked.

"Do you want to?"

Kate shrugged. "It probably wouldn't be a bad idea, seeing as how we weren't in disguise last time."

John shrugged one shoulder. "Well, I'm not doing anything elaborate. You can do whatever you want."

Kate giggled. "Aw, come on! What about the blue haired, green eyed Aussie that I hung out with the other day?"

John stuffed the rest of his bagel down his throat, followed by a sip of coffee. When his mouth was empty, he said, "The same place his blonde haired, cheerleader-like companion went, I guess."

Kate made a face. "I was glad to be rid of _her_."

"Me too," John agreed and gathered up his breakfast things to throw them away. "Meet me here in a few minutes."

"All right, just let me finish first."

John left and Kate wolfed down the rest of her breakfast. As soon as she was done, she ran upstairs and happily slammed the door behind her. From across the hall she heard John shout, "When will you learn to close a door, not attack it?"

"The day you learn to keep your room neat!" Kate yelled back and placed herself in front of the bathroom mirror. It was good to be friendly with John again.

After about fifteen minutes of fighting with her hair and other things, Kate surveyed herself in the mirror with satisfaction. The girl staring back at her had blue eyes (thanks to some fake contact lenses John had given her) and straight hair that hung past her shoulders. For something different, Kate added a pair of hoop earrings large enough to fit a fist through. She giggled when she put them on, but thought they made her look unlike herself.

She walked down to the lobby, trying to avoid eye contact with the people in neighboring rooms, and waited for John. He was already there, lounging against the wall by the door. Kate had to choke back a laugh when she saw him; he looked so different. The boy motioning her to follow him had bright green eyes and dark hair gelled up into tiny spikes. Kate jogged over to him, laughing.

"You look like Bobby with dark hair," she told him.

John made a face. "It's that bad, huh?"

"Not quite," Kate said nicely. "I kind of like it."

"Don't get used to it," John growled as he led the way outside. "This is a one time thing."

John led the way to his motorcycle, which was parked down the street a little ways and hopped on. Kate followed, but rejected the helmet John thrust at her.

"Oh no, I'm not putting that thing on again," she said stubbornly. "Last time it wouldn't come off."

John rolled his eyes. "I'll help you get it off this time. Just put it on."

Kate eyed the black helmet warily. "You're sure it'll come off?"

Without a word John shoved the helmet at her and adjusted his mirrors. As he did so he caught sight of his reflection and sighed. "I look like a porcupine," he muttered and started the engine.

As Kate fastened her helmet she shouted into John's ear, "Why do I have to wear one of these and you don't?"

"I'm more responsible," John yelled back and shot off down the street.


	6. All in a Day's Work

(BobbyD12 looks around forlornly) Hello? Is anyone left out there? Heh, so sorry it's been…forever since I updated…school, what can I say? Well, I hope you like the latest installment.

(Pokes Pyrotic because of all the updating "reminders") Happy, you little pyromaniac?

(Pokes Horsiegir because of all the updating "reminders") Happy, you little…person?

(Pokes KernlToadSanderz because it's fun) Ha!

* * *

Just after Bobby, Anna, and Rogue had left Xavier's mansion, a different sort of scene was taking place in the old building in Paris. The fat man sat at his desk, idly puffing a cigar. The phone on the old desk rang shrilly and he answered in his thick French.

"Yes?"

"Bronc reporting, monsignor."

The voice on the phone was just unfamiliar enough for the fat man to not recall who it was. "Where are you stationed?" he questioned.

"America," Bronc explained, "New York."

The fat man remembered now. He had sent Bronc to New York to look into a rumor of some kind of mutant school. The rumor had been correct all right, but from what Bronc had told him about the defenses there, the fat man wasn't thinking about kidnapping mutants from there.

"Well, what about it?" the man snapped.

"I wish to inform you that I believe they may have discovered us."

The fat man jerked up in his chair, cigar forgotten. "What? Impossible!"

Bronc was certain of his statement however. "I heard them speaking of mutant kidnappings in Paris. They sent three young people, two girls and a boy. They're stopping in London first, then going to Paris."

"Carry on," The fat man grated harshly and slammed down the phone. Very well, he'd simply have to make a warm reception for them in Britain.

* * *

Anna walked slowly into the Jenson Hotel, her mind swirling with all the new thoughts and sensations her morning had brought her. The excitement of being in England had been completely eclipsed by her meeting with Dominic. She looked at the address in her hand and wondered what Dominic had meant about "not being idle all these years."

As she walked past the main desk, the elderly man she had talked with earlier hailed her with his mellow (and British) voice.

"Did you find what you were wanting, miss?"

Anna jolted back into reality and smiled at him. "Yes, thank you sir."

"You're quite welcome," the man replied, looking pleased at her answer. Looking at a notepad on his desk he added, "You are Anna Wallace, aren't you, miss?"

Anna nodded.

"Your friends told me to give you this message when you came in." He handed Anna a piece of paper sporting with Bobby's neat handwriting.

"Thank you, sir," Anna said and read the note as she wandered upstairs to her room.

_Anna,_ (it read)

_Rogue and I went out to get some lunch together, and knowing her I'll probably be sucked into some shopping as well __. Sorry we missed you; keep safe while we're gone._

_--Bobby_

_PS: Call us on Rogue's cell phone if you have any problems._

_PPS: Rogue still has it._

Anna absently pocketed the note as she unlocked the door to her hotel room. When she opened it, she had to fuss with the key a bit to get it out of the lock, but when she did and looked inside, her heart skipped a beat.

There were clothes strewn all over the floor, her and Rogue's suitcases were overturned and empty. Every drawer in the pair of dressers had been pulled out and left laying on the ground, the sheets were ripped off the two beds and the mattresses were skewed, as if someone had been moving them.

For a minute Anna stood in shock, gazing at the mess, and then she closed the door and walked to Bobby's room, across the hall. With trembling hands she unlocked his room and stifled a groan as her eyes beheld the same type of disaster. She closed is door softly and went back to her own room. As she sank onto the stripped bed, one thought kept running through her mind. _"They know we're here. They know we're here…"

* * *

_

Rogue was trying to interest Bobby in a shop window when her cell phone started beeping out the Macarena.

"Hello?" Rogue drawled as she answered. "Anna, is that you? What happened, sugar?"

Bobby stopped pretending to inspect the jewelry on display and turned to his girlfriend expectantly.

As Rogue listened to her friend, her eyes grew wide. "Both rooms?" she asked, horrified.

"Is she alright?" Bobby demanded, not caring that he was interrupting.

Rogue only nodded and continued listening. "All right, we'll be there in ten minutes. No, I'm sure. Stay in the lobby until we get there. Bye."

Bobby was already headed towards their rental car before Rogue's emphatic, "We need to get back."

Only when they were zipping through the London streets did Rogue tell Bobby what had happened to their rooms.

Bobby listened in grim amazement. "Thank goodness we didn't leave that disk in our rooms," he muttered. He glanced at Rogue. "You do still have it, right?"

Rogue patted her side. "Right here."

Bobby let out a sigh of relief and parked the car in front of their hotel. The pair walked quickly into the lobby where Anna was waiting, twisting her hands nervously. When she saw them walk through the door, she rushed to meet them, her relief obvious.

"Thank goodness!" she exclaimed. "I thought you'd never get here."

"How bad is the damage?" Bobby asked.

Anna shook her head miserably. "Everything is turned inside out, it's like a tornado hit. It was so scary…" her voice trailed off.

Bobby gave her a quick hug. "It's all right. They were after the disk, not you."

He and the girls walked upstairs and surveyed the damage. Nothing had been broken or, as far as they could tell, taken, just messed up. Standing in the girl's room, Bobby ran a hand through his hair.

"After all the trouble we took to look inconspicuous, this happens." He sighed. "It's going to take a miracle to get us into Paris undetected."

The girls said nothing, but gazed vaguely around the room as if the answers were to found in the mess around them.

Anna sighed dismally and shoved her hands into her pockets. Her fingers touched a piece of paper. Drawing it out, she looked at it languidly. It was the address Dominic had given to her. _"I need to tell Bobby about that…"_ she thought lazily. Then she straightened and gazed at the paper more intently. "Just in case, come to this address," she whispered to herself, repeating what Dominic had told her.

"What was that?" Bobby asked, staring at her.

Anna took a deep breath. "This is going to sound really weird, but I think I might have a way out of this mess."

* * *

"I swear, if I have to ask the question _'Do you know a man named Jean Bapsteist?'_ one more time, I'm going to murder someone!"

Kate and John's inquiries had not been going well. It had taken about half the morning to establish themselves as traders on the underground market in Paris, an easy feat for two people who knew as much as they did about that particular subject. But every time Kate would casually hint at that name, or even ask outright, people would say nothing.

"It stinks we have to do it this way," John grumbled softly as they walked together down a narrow Paris street. "It's got to look suspicious."

Kate agreed, but at the moment she was too irritated to say anything except, "Can we take a break now?"

John looked at his watch. "It's about one o'clock, let's get some lunch."

Kate sighed gratefully. "Finally we hear some sense!"

The two friends navigated their way through the narrow inner-city streets of Paris, that were dim, even in the afternoon. Finally they got into a more commercialized part of Paris, chose a small restaurant and sat down. Their waitress came and gave them their menus, after batting her blue eyes and flicking her blonde hair in John's direction. John raised his eyebrows at her and smirked, so complacent that Kate almost threw her menu at him.

"Order me something good, will you?" John asked Kate and leaned back in his chair. It was what they did every time they went to lunch or dinner, because John couldn't read the menu and had no desire to learn. Once, Kate tried to teach him the basics of the French language, but the end result had been her storming off in a high temper and John setting fire to every one of the workbooks she had bought.

"How would you like a tuna sandwich?" Kate asked, her eyes on the menu.

"Sound fine," John said, his eyes following their pretty waitress on her rounds. "Do they have any Coke in this place?"

Kate's eyes scanned the menu obediently. "Yep."

"Good," John said with satisfaction as the blonde waitress came to take their orders.

Kate ordered John's meal and two slices of pizza for herself. After the girl was done taking their orders, she hung around, making eyes at John. Kate thought it was all rather disgusting, but John seemed to be enjoying the attention.

After awhile the waitress left and John turned back to the matter at hand.

"King Bucket Head isn't going to be too pleased when we tell him we can't find anything," he commented.

"What else can we do?" Kate asked, hopelessly. "Either people don't know who and where he is, or they're not telling us."

John shrugged.

"We could pose as captor and captive again," Kate suggested. "It seemed to work before."

John shook his head. "We've used that scheme too many times before. The word has probably already gone out to be on the watch for it."

The blonde waitress brought them their lunch and received a coy smirk from John as her reward.

As they were eating, Kate continued thinking aloud. "If only we knew someone on the inside that could smuggle us in. Or, if only Professor Xavier could help us with Cerebro."

"If wishes were fishes, everyone would be sick of eating fish sandwiches," John said wisely.

Kate laughed and they continued eating in silence.

When the waitress brought their check, she hung around again, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. Kate was on the verge of asking her to leave when she said, in French, "What's your name, handsome?"

John looked up. "What did she say, Kate?" he demanded.

Kate translated for him.

"Tell her and ask for hers," John said next.

Kate did so and told him that her name was Carina. "She wants your phone number," she told him, wrinkling her nose.

John smirked again. "Go ahead and give it to her."

Kate turned to Carina and said a long sentence in French, much longer than necessary for a phone number. As Kate was speaking, John saw Carina's face fall, then finally, as Kate finished, she turned and walked away disappointedly.

"What did you say to her?" John asked, a little annoyed to find his source of entertainment gone.

Kate looked at him innocently and said, in a sweet voice, "Oh, I told her you were married."

* * *

A half an hour later Bobby, Rogue, and Anna were still in the girl's room, seated on various beds and chairs.

"Let me get his straight," Bobby said slowly, after Anna was done with her story. "You think Dom has organized a group of mutants here in London, and he's offering to help us?"

Anna nodded. "It sure sounded that way to me."

"Do you think he's trustworthy?"

"Bobby! Have you forgotten how he helped get us out of that living nightmare years ago?" Anna asked indigently.

Bobby shrugged. "No, I'm just making sure he hasn't changed, that's all."

Anna smiled wryly. "He seemed the same to me."

"What did he feel like?" Bobby asked, putting his feet on the arm of his chair.

Anna was startled. "Oh. I forgot to feel him." Not only had she forgotten, but also she had had no desire to remember. Going into his consciousness would have brought her closer to him than she wanted.

Rogue spoke up for the first time from her seat on her bed. "I know this is going to sound stupid, but who _is_ this Dominic person?"

Anna answered her question. "He is a boy Bobby and I knew when we were captured, a long time ago. You remember that, don't you?"

Rogue nodded. "He's a mutant, right?"

"Yep," Bobby said. "His power has got something to do with controlling water, I think. I don't really know, I never saw him use it."

"I did, once," Anna interjected. "After we were set free and before he went back to England. He made the water in my glass dance in the air to the music on the radio. It was really cool."

"Are we going to trust him?" Rogue asked.

Anna looked at Bobby. "Whatever you say goes, sir."

"I'll think about it," Bobby told them. He rose out of chair. "We should clean up our rooms now, huh?"

"We should," Anna said, pulling a mournful face, "But I don't want to."

"At least you two can help each other," Bobby replied, heading for the door. "I have to do it all by myself!"

"We can help you later," Rogue promised as he left their room and closed the door again.

* * *

After lunch, Kate and John headed back to the places where traders of the black market usually congregated. They typically met in the basements of poor looking houses in the heart of the city. Their routine was basically the same. Kate would strike up a conversation with someone while trying to look old and important, and would gradually bring the talk around to what she and John were supposedly selling.

"Slaves," she told one clean shaven man. "Do you know of anyone who would be interested?"

"I might be able to find a few people who would like to pick up some girls," the man offered, with an oily grin. "There's always a demand for them."

Kate shuddered inside at the thought of giving anyone over to this man, but long lessons from John had taught her to keep her voice even. "We'd be much obliged," she said. She turned away, then stopped and said, as if an afterthought, "You know, I heard of a man named Bapstiest a little while ago. Someone said he might be interested as well. Have you heard of him?"

The man laughed condescendingly. "Whoever told you that was pulling your leg, little one. There's no one here by that name that I know of, and I know everyone here." With that, he moved off to talk to someone else.

Kate gave John an eloquent look that said, "This is pointless, let's go" as clearly as if she had said it aloud. The pair was always careful never to speak in English when they were in places like this. There was no need to advertise that they were Americans, even though everyone probably knew it anyway.

John shrugged and motioned towards the door. Kate followed him out of the basement, through the alleys, and out onto a main street.

"We're going on a wild goose chase!" she exclaimed when she figured it was safe. "No one knows where he is."

John made no sign that he heard her remark and bent down to tie his shoe. John was crouching on the ground, rocking back and forth as he fiddled with his shoelace when he rocked backwards too hard and fell on his back. He lay there for a second, looking the way they had just come, then hulled himself off the ground.

"You know, John," Kate said as he started walking again, a bit faster, "you really need to find your center of balance. Isn't there some class you could take or something so that you wouldn't fall flat on your back when you try to tie a shoelace? Maybe you should take dancing lessons to make you more graceful…" Kate was still chattering away when John grabbed her hand and started pulling her along at a faster rate until they were almost running down the street.

Kate stopped talking and looked at her friend in surprise. John's face was grim and his mouth was set in a determined line.

"What's wrong?" she whispered.

"A man's been following us since we left that last house," John explained. "No, don't look at him!"

Without another word to John, Kate raised her voice and said in French, "No need to pull me like this! I can't help it if we're going to be late for our meeting with Marc." She turned to John and said angrily, "You should have told me what time it was!"

"_Pardon_," John said, shrugging his shoulders. He wasn't sure what Kate was saying, but he understood that she was trying to explain their frenzied dash. He nodded slightly at his friend, showing that she was to keep it up.

Kate did so with gusto, jabbering on in French about how they were going to be late for their meeting with their dear friend Marc if they didn't hurry.

John looked in every shop window that caused a reflection and saw that their follower was still on their tail. At long last, he spotted his motorcycle and hurried to it.

Barely giving Kate time to sit down behind him, he twisted the throttle open and roared off down the road after having the satisfaction of seeing their follower stop at the street and stare after them.


End file.
